


Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored

by writeskatelive



Category: Figure Skating - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Lesbian, Olympics, figure skating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-11-08 01:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17972123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeskatelive/pseuds/writeskatelive
Summary: When the fearless, strong-willed Turandot met the restlessly passionate Carmen, they never expected to fall in love.Wenjing Sui has spent her whole life chasing the impossible. There are only two things missing in her world: the Olympic gold medal in pair skating and the love of a woman as strong and beautiful as she is. But the Chinese federation is determined to pass her off as straight so she and Cong will be the great love story of the Olympics.After an Olympic ban that marred her name and destroyed her career, Ksenia Stolbova gave up everything for a second chance. Two years later, she has fought her way back to the top of the sport with the help of Nikolai Morozov, her clever Coach with Benefits. But her restless spirit still craves something more.Fed up with playing Hunger Games with Cong, Wenjing asks Ksenia on a date to stop the rumors once and for all. But as their relationship builds, they are suddenly at the center of a relationship neither one expected.Trigger warning: There is a brief implied sexual assault, so please skip over that part if it makes you feel uncomfortable.





	1. Lesbian Problems

I know what I came to do  
And that ain't gonna change  
So go ahead and talk your talk  
'Cause I won't take the bait

—-

"Are you and Cong going to get married?"

Wenjing closed her eyes and swallowed against the exasperated sigh she'd been holding back for the past few hours. She was sorely tempted to just stand on the table and shout that no, they were not getting married, they were not planning on getting married, and if one more person asked her that question, she was going to wring their neck. But the little girl was looking up at her with huge brown eyes and a smile with two missing teeth, and she couldn't do it.

"Not right now," she said, the same thing she'd told the last 300 kids who'd come to the autograph signing in Harbin. "Maybe in a few years."

Cong scooped up the little girl onto his knee for the picture, and Wenjing leaned in. Surely the photos would float onto the internet in a few hours and earn thousands of likes, several reposts, and a flood of comments saying "They look like such a cute family!" even though she had never met the kid until two minutes ago. And Cong...well.

When they had first teamed up, she had been terrified by the big, scary boy throwing her around like a dodgeball. Slowly fear turned to trust, trust turned to respect, respect turned to friendship, and friendship turned to the warm, caring feeling she felt for her cousins. But no matter how long she looked at him, platonic love couldn't turn to attraction.

He just couldn't look as cute as Cheng Peng, even if he tried.

"Phew!" said Cong, sitting back in his chair and smiling at her. "I'll have to withdraw from Worlds with writer's cramp!"

"You wouldn't dare." She let her face go dead serious before she burst into uncontrollable laughter. Cong had a way of making her laugh every time he opened his mouth. Even when he tried to be stern with her, he looked so funny she couldn't really take him seriously. She closed her eyes, remembering the times he made ridiculous faces to make her laugh while she was stuck in that stupid wheelchair. And when she smiled, he smiled, and when he smiled, he was truly handsome. As handsome as a man could be to a lesbian.

"I sure would," said Cong, "because then you'd give me your best angry face, and I would be scared to death. I like it when you scare me."

She flipped her hair forward, hiding her face so she looked like a Dementor coming to steal his soul, and he burst out laughing.

"Excuse me," said the nicely-dressed secretary sitting at the end of the table, "but we should get ready for the press conference, shouldn't we?"

"Of course," said Wenjing, reaching down for her bag.

"We'll be right there," said Cong.

In two days, they would leave for Worlds - their eighth together. They'd been dominating the whole season, but it was the first time they'd have to face James/Cipres, their rivals from France. It was going to be one hell of a fight.

Not to mention, Ksenia Stolbova was back. She'd basically vanished without a trace for two years, after the Olympic committee had screwed her over and her longtime partner Fedor had decided to retire. Apparently she was skating with some guy she'd managed to wrestle out of France, and even from the grainy video of them at Warsaw Cup, they looked ready to slay.

The thought made Wenjing sigh in happiness. She'd known Ksenia since Junior Worlds in 2010, when they were both awkward teenagers, and she couldn't help but admire that spark, that no-nonsense attitude, and the way she moved like a cheetah on the prowl across the ice. It would be good to see her again.

Wenjing wasn't nervous - she liked the rush of adrenaline she felt when she stood in the middle of the ice with everything to win.

And they were going to win. Because if there was anything Sui Wenjing did not do, it was settle for less than the best.


	2. Morozov Problems

Tell me something, I need to know  
Then take my breath and never let it go  
If you just let me invade your space  
I'll take the pleasure, take it with the pain

 

I know your motives and you know mine  
The ones that love me, I tend to leave behind  
If you know about me and choose to stay  
Then take this pleasure and take away the pain

—-

Ksenia fell flat on her back against the bed, her panting painfully loud in her ears. Her body ached, her blood was acid in her veins, and her heart was pounding a hole through her chest. She wasn't quite sure if it was from the exhilaration of what she'd just been doing, or if she was having a panic attack. It all felt similar.

Nikolai kissed her neck, then made his way up to her lips, grinning. His body trapped her against the mattress, as if he was a cat standing over a captured mouse. Except she felt pretty good for a mouse.

"You delicious little spitfire," he said, his mouth so close she could taste his words on her tongue, and kissed her again.

She made some kind of inarticulate sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan. She wished she could stop shaking and actually look at him, but her body had no intention of listening to her. She imagined she looked like someone who had nearly drowned and washed up on shore choking on water.

The breezy ting of Nikolai's ringtone cut through her gasping. Cursing, he pulled back onto his knees and reached over her to grab his iPhone from the nightstand. The sudden absence of his body over her made her skin feel suddenly cold and exposed.

"Hello?" he said stiffly. He had two voices - one he used to communicate with his colleagues and one to whisper dirty things into her ear. Except sometimes at practice, the lines could get blurred easily, and he sounded exasperated as he added, "Yes, what is it?"

An unclear response crackled through the phone, and he frowned. "Annabelle, honey, can you just hold on for a minute? I'm kind of in the middle of something...okay, I see."

Ksenia sighed. Annabelle was Nikolai's eighteen-year-old daughter from his first marriage. She was away at the university now, and Nikolai hadn't told her yet that he and Ksenia were dating. It was probably for the best, since Nikolai said Annabelle was still "a little upset" over his divorce from Vasilisa.

"Okay, okay," said Nikolai. "I get it, baby girl. Well what are we going to do about it?" He held the phone away from his ear for a second and glanced down at Ksenia. "It's Annabelle. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He stood up and kept talking to Annabelle over the phone while retrieving his clothes from their usual pile on the floor and putting them on haphazardly, then ducked out into the hallway, leaving Ksenia alone.

She rolled over in the dark, pulling the sheets tighter against her bare skin. Life was good with Nikolai. He was charming, he gave her free coaching, and whenever she got restless, his bed was always available. He had even bought her a little diamond necklace for Christmas. It was easily the best arrangement she'd had in years.

So why did she feel like a broken shell? When his body was crushing her back to life, the world looked on fire, and her heart remembered how to pump blood again. But the minute it was over, she felt cold, dead, used-up. She felt too heavy to move.

A memory itched at the back of her mind, uncomfortable but satisfying: kissing a drunk Valentina Marchei at the Rostelecom Cup banquet two years ago.

She had pushed that night down, down, down in her head, trying to convince herself it had been just a fantasy, a dream, side effects of the champagne. But the truth always flooded back to the surface, and it made her shudder.

She remembered her insane "girl crush" on Nicole Kidman that started at Moulin Rouge! and frankly had never stopped. She remembered nestling her head into Elena Radionova's neck while watching a movie and wanting to stay there. She remembered chasing down Kaitlyn Weaver and Andrew Poje and demanding to be friends with both of them, because subconsciously she wasn't sure which one she was in love with. But all of this was locked in an iron strongbox in her head, never to be opened.

Ksenia slammed her fist into the bed. Why was she thinking about this again? She had Nikolai. He was enough. Of course he was enough. He had to be enough.

The door swung open and Nikolai returned, crossing the room with long strides, setting his phone on the nightstand, and leaning over the bed in one fluid movement. "Okay, I'm back, you little devil woman. Let's get back to business."

"I'm tired."

The words startled her as much as him. It was only ten-thirty - these nights usually lasted well past midnight. But something inside her told her not tonight.

He frowned for a second, but that smile came back a second later, and he ran his hand over her cheek. "Okay then. I can catch you in the morning."

"Okay," she said, closing her eyes. She felt him climb in the bed next to her and pull the covers towards his side. A few minutes later, she heard his deep breaths as he slept. But she just kept staring into the darkness, wide awake.


	3. Only On Weekends

The girl you see in photographs is only  
A part of the one I am, don't judge me  
'Cause that's not reality and all I can be  
Is in love with who I'm becoming

—-

"So, how did the autograph session go?" Xiaoyu said when they both skated to the boards for their water bottles. "I'm sure they loved you."

Wenjing laughed. "A few asked us to adopt them. I told them that the shared custody would be pretty complicated."

Xiaoyu smiled. She was angelically pretty, with pearl skin, delicate limbs, and soft, dovelike brown eyes. "They adore you. And Cong too, of course. How many asked if you two were dating this time?"

"Every single one!" Wenjing shook her head, her hair falling in her face. "They were downright adorable, but you'd think they were all getting bribed by the press to ask us until one of us said yes. And please, don't even get me started on the press. Xiaoyu, what's the quickest way to squash dating rumors once and for all?"

"Skate with an old man," said Xiaoyu, snickering.

Wenjing rolled her eyes. "Well, if I nag Cong long enough, I might be able to turn him gray before the next Olympics."

Xiaoyu's eyes sparkled with a thought. "Wait, I have a better idea."

"What, put gray dye in his shampoo?"

"No, I mean maybe you should date someone else."

Wenjing's mouth fell open. "What?"

"If they see you're in a relationship with someone else, then they'll see that you and Cong have no intention of being together. Besides, it might be good for you. I mean, no offense, but when was the last time you had a boyfriend?"

The true answer was eighth grade, before she'd had her Gay Awakening, but she just shrugged. "I'm perfectly happy being single. And besides, we've got Worlds coming up."

Xiaoyu let out a heavy sigh that sounded too deep coming from her dainty body. "Why do you always do this?"

"Do what?" said Wenjing, flipping her hair back.

"You always run away from the concept of dating. Every time an opportunity happens, you say you're too busy, or you're not ready, or you're happy being single. But Wenjing, sometimes I swear you're acting like a man-hating lesbian!"

Wenjing had just taken a sip of water, and it stopped in her throat, making her cough. Covering her mouth, she tried to turn it into a laugh. "Only on weekends."

Xiaoyu smiled. "Anyway, I just thought it'd be a good idea for the rest of the world to see you out and about with someone new. And who knows - you might actually meet someone special."

"Maybe," said Wenjing. "But I wouldn't bet on it."

Xiaoyu just raised her eyebrows, as if she knew some delicious secret, and skated away with the speed and the grace of a butterfly.


	4. Set the Rink on Fire

Some days, things just take way too much of my energy  
I look up and the whole room's spinning  
You take my cares away  
I can so overcomplicate, people tell me to medicate

—-

Ksenia's suitcase rumbled up to the doors of the rink, masking the thundering beat of her heart. Her whole body was numb and cold from fear, and she almost kicked herself for feeling so stupid. She'd been fighting that uneasy feeling all week, but now that they were actually standing at the threshold of the arena, it collapsed in on her head and made her shudder.

Nikolai opened the door for her and ducked in behind her, nearly letting the door slam shut in Andrei's face. Sometimes Ksenia wondered if Nikolai was even aware of her partner's existence, besides the times he yelled at him to gesture more during the step sequences. But every couple had its third wheel.

Walking into the rink sent chills across her arms. She felt like a soldier standing on a hill, looking down at the battlefield below, and she swallowed hard so she wouldn't vomit from the sheer flood of emotion. It had been three years since she'd stood on the ice at the World Championships. The faded memories reawakened in vivid color - diving into side-by-side triple-triple-double combos with nothing to lose, Fedor's sheepish face at the end of every performance, Nina Mozer waiting for her at the boards. Memories felt like a movie - vividly real, but someone else's story.

She pressed her hand against her chest and took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. It wasn't working.

"Nikolai," she breathed.

He came up behind her and locked his arms around her waist. He had been doing that a lot over the past few years, holding her while she cursed herself for being so unsteady and wondered what had happened to that fearless girl who had believed she could conquer the world. Even as he pulled her body against his, she was stiff, fighting the urge to surrender.

"Come on now, there's nothing to be afraid of," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "You are going to set this rink on fire. You know why?"

She turned her head to look up at him, sarcasm crawling into her voice over her fear. "Because my partner will trip on his toepicks, and then I'll get so mad my eyes will set a fire and I'll burn the whole rink down." That had almost happened once, many years ago. Or maybe twice. Fortunately, no Fedors were harmed in the process.

He smiled and tapped his nose against her forehead. "No. Because you are Ksenia Stolbova, and no one skates like you."

Closing her eyes, she breathed in the expensive smell of his strong cologne. She didn't need Fedor, or Nina, or the Olympic committee. The only person holding her to the earth was Nikolai, and that was fine.

"I love you," she whispered.

He pressed his mouth into her neck, then turned her around so she was facing him. "I know, sweetheart. And we're going to be fine."

Andrei was fidgeting with his lanyard, glancing up at them as if he was ashamed to be looking. He had figured out months ago that Ksenia and Nikolai were in a relationship, but he'd never said anything. In fact, he never said anything about much.

Nikolai gestured towards the suitcases without looking up. "Andrei, take these bags to the check-in. All of them - just take them to the lady at the desk." He kissed Ksenia's brow again. "It won't take long. Sometimes I swear they pay me for doing nothing."

He started walking away towards the practice ice, sturdy and confident in his crisp black suit, while Andrei rumbled away with the suitcases, muttering under his breath about being treated like a "bellboy". Ksenia took a deep breath and started walking towards the women's lockers. She bumped hard into someone and started to apologize before she realized who it was. His hair was shaved off on the sides, no longer yanked into that ridiculous man bun, and he looked a little older and a little heavier than she’d remembered, but she had seen that face every day for nine years, and she would know Fedor Klimov even if she was blind and deaf. “Oh,” he said, taking a few steps back and looking down sheepishly. “I heard you were going to be here, but I didn’t...I just...I’m sorry.” “It’s fine,” she said, swallowing. “Kolya and I were just getting our stuff.” For a moment, he winced, but his face quickly fell back into a polite half smile, the same face he gave interviewers when he was displeased but wanted to appear unbothered. He was wearing a gray double-breasted jacket and a thick black cashmere scarf that made him look thoughtful, almost stern. “Nikolai Morozov? Oh, I forgot. He is...still coaching you?” It was an innocent enough remark, but the way he said “coaching” sounded like an euphemism for “dating”. She frowned. “Yes. Why?” He blushed. “I just...wanted to make sure everything was all right. Not that I thought...well, I should probably check on Lana and Antonio. You...you take care of yourself, okay?” He stood there awkwardly for a moment, then took a few backwards, off-balance steps before disappearing into the crowd of coaches and officials. Ksenia watched him leave, her heart twisting. She closed her eyes and forced herself to focus. He didn’t matter. None of those people from the past mattered. Already, she could see her rivals - Vanessa James was stowing her bag in a locker, Nicole Della Monica was stretching her leg up to her head, and Natalia Zabijako was applying her makeup in the mirror.

"You are Ksenia Stolbova," she repeated under her breath. "And you are here to take your life back."


	5. Unscrupulous? Yes!

I'm talkin' to ya  
See you standing over there with your body  
Feeling like I wanna rock with your body  
And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'

—-

Wenjing slipped her headphones over her hair and leaned over the railing, watching the pairs practice from above. It was still an hour before she and Cong were scheduled to skate, so she had coaxed Cong into staying at the hotel a little longer to play video games with Boyang. She loved him like a brother, but today she needed to get rid of him for a while.

Because today, she was shopping for a girlfriend.

She had considered just holding hands with Xiaoyu in public so the press would get the hint, but then everyone would assume that Xiaoyu was gay too, and then angelic Xiaoyu would turn into the Incredible Hulk and murder Wenjing with her bare hands for killing her chances with men. And Wenjing really wasn't in the mood for a coming out post on social media unless she had a girlfriend.

At least figure skating had a mother lode of beautiful women to choose from. With a little luck, one or two of them might actually be gay.

Down on the ice, four pairs practiced their short programs: James/Cipres, Tarasova/Morozov, Zabijako/Enbert, and Stolbova/Novoselov. Wenjing's brain ran through them like a baggage scanner, evaluating.

Vanessa James - straight, which was a major loss to lesbians everywhere, but at least she was a Cool Straight.

Evgenia Tarasova - beautiful, but so straight it was a waste of time. Judging by her type, Wenjing just wasn't tall, red-headed, or okay, male enough.

Natalia Zabijako - straight newlywed, although the gay haircut was a rotten trick. Possibly kissed a girl or two in middle school out of curiosity, but she had clearly been going down the road towards the less fair sex for years now.

Ksenia Stolbova - well, that was an essay question.

It was hard to believe that awkward girl from the 2010 Grand Prix Final had grown into such a bombshell. Even with the light makeup and the plastic hair clips she wore to practice, she was gorgeous. Dark hair, cut close to her head in a chic, no-nonsense pixie cut. Intense, bird-like eyes. A sharpness to her movements and a swagger in everything she did.

People always assumed she was straight, because lately she'd been fooling around with that Don Juan dude, his name was like some Russian form of "Nicki Minaj" or something. But Wenjing knew better. Ksenia just exuded gayness. From her badass hair to the fact that gay men seemed to worship her, this women was an example of bisexuality at its finest. Not to mention, there was that one time she got hammered at the banquet at Rostelecom Cup and kissed Valentina Marchei on the lips that everyone tried to sweep under the rug.

In other words, sans coach, Ksenia was Wenjing's dream girl. In fact, she was embarrassed to admit she'd watched Ksenia and Fedor's Carmen program and wondered if a woman could actually personify a fire emoji.

The idea of outing her as bisexual to the media made Wenjing sick. She knew what it was like to panic over the possibility of being outed, and she couldn't possibly put someone else through that. Personally, she would've come out years ago if the Chinese fed wasn't so set on shipping her with Cong. But Ksenia wasn't the type of person who liked sharing her business with the press.

It would have to come slowly. Wenjing would approach her as a friend, encourage her to open up to her privately, and after the old coach dude had moved on to his next sugar baby, they would move out of the friend zone. Hopefully by the Olympics, they could make the relationship official in front of all the cameras, and the "Wenjing and Cong forever" narrative would come screeching to a halt.

Was it an unscrupulous plan? Yes. Was Wenjing going to do it? Hell yes.


	6. Who Said It Was a Date?

Oh baby, look what you started  
The temperature's rising in here  
Is this gonna happen?  
Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move  
Before I make a move

—-

Ksenia propped her ankle on the barre and bent in half to grab her phone out of her bag. Still stretching, she started scrolling through her Instagram notifications, looking for encouraging posts. There weren't many, except for that sweet girl from Paraguay who had faithfully kept the fan page running for the past two years. It was funny how quickly people forgot about you.

The slap of a yoga mat three feet away made her jump. Wenjing Sui had plopped down to stretch on the floor next to her. She was wearing skintight training pants with mesh panels sewn into the sides and a black tank top with crisscrossed straps across the back. Her bob of dark hair swished as she looked up with her bright brown eyes.

Ksenia swallowed. There was something about Wenjing that had always made her uncomfortable. Pretty girls made her want to kiss and cuddle and squeal like a schoolgirl, and that was not Her Brand. Not to mention, Wenjing always seemed a little too eager to kiss and cuddle and squeal with another girl.

She glanced down at her phone, silently begging the heat in her cheeks not to give her away.

"Hi," said Wenjing, setting her water bottle on the edge of the mat. "I hope you don't mind me sitting here. I need to get some time away from Cong once in a while!"

Ksenia just shrugged. It's just a girl, she reminded herself. It's your rival, for crying out loud. You're supposed to be slaying everyone, not getting giggly and stupid. She leaned forward, stretching her calf and pretending she was alone in the gym at home.

"You know, I'm so excited to see you back. The skating world just doesn't feel the same without you. I know that sounds weird, and you probably get that a lot, but I just missed you."

Ksenia let out a short breath through her nose before turning to look at Wenjing, who was smiling adorably at her. It was impossible to be exasperated with her. "Thanks. I've missed me too."

Wenjing laughed, then glanced down, almost shy. "I really mean it. There's just something special about you."

A nervous chuckle built in Ksenia's throat as she stretched the other leg. "Oh, you're not giving me the 'you're not like other girls' speech, are you? Cause if you are, I swear to God I'm gonna wring your neck."

Wenjing put her hand on her hip, trying to be intimidating but really just managing to look sassy. "Now what happened to good sportsmanship? Apparently you have a Tonya Harding streak in you that I didn't know about." She squatted down and scooted her mat a few inches away, but she glanced back up at Ksenia as if checking to see if she would follow.

"It was a joke," Ksenia said quietly, finishing the stretch.

"I knew that." Wenjing stood up again, leaning with one hand on the barre. "You're not the kind of girl who would kill your rivals by strangling. With a pistol, maybe." She imitated firing a gun with her free hand. "I'll do my best to stay on your good side."

"It's okay, I don't actually bite. Unless you're my partner and you toepick at the most inconvenient time."

Wenjing hopped onto the tiptoes of her sneakers, pretending to trip. "Seriously, though, you and I would make a great pair team. Don't tell Cong I said that though, or he'll get jealous. And you know how he makes that angry face when he gets jealous."

Ksenia just smiled, not sure what to say, so Wenjing kept talking.

"You know what? There's the best little coffee shop back at the hotel, do you want to go so I can be sure to stay on your good side?"

The words sent Ksenia's heart sailing over the edge. This gorgeous woman was asking her out...and that meant she could tell...and Nikolai...She swallowed, but her mouth stayed dry. "I don't date rivals."

Wenjing shrugged. "Who said it was a date? It's just coffee. If we end up kissing by the end of the hour, that's even better."

Ksenia shook her head. "I think...you've got the wrong idea." But she could hear the lie in her own voice, and so could Wenjing.

"Hey, you don't have to be like this around me." Wenjing lay her hand on Ksenia's arm, gently. "It's coffee, not a marriage contract. If you go and you hate it, you have the right to kill me at the end of the hour."

Ksenia frowned, planting one hand on her hip and trying to look fierce despite her racing heart. "With my bare hands?"

Wenjing shrugged. "Nah, you can use a gun if you want. But aim for the leg or something, just in case you decide you're sorry and you want me to live."


	7. Victory At Last

Right now, I'm in a state of mind  
I wanna be in like all the time  
Ain't got no tears left to cry  
So I'm pickin' it up, pickin' it up  
I'm lovin', I'm livin', I'm pickin' it up

—-

Wenjing started crying the minute the music stopped. She tried to hide her face in Cong's shirt, but it was no use; she had never been good at containing her tears in public. He pulled her head into his chest, and they stood awkwardly there for a few minutes as the crowd screamed in their ears.

"We did it," Cong said into her hair. "Thank you. I love you so much."

She forced herself to stand on her own feet and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand as they skated to the center of the ice for their bows. The entire arena was on its feet, waving Chinese flags and banners bearing pictures of her and Cong. Her heart was still pounding from the exertion, too hard for her body to contain.

It wasn't the first time they had delivered all they were capable of, but somehow it felt different this time. The final minute, after she had landed the last throw jump, had felt like her body was covered in jewels, like the most beautiful butterfly she could imagine. She felt like there was a diamond in her chest, radiating light through her limbs and out into the world. She felt invincible.

Coach Hongbo Zhao scooped both of them into a hug as soon as they stepped off the ice. "I'm so proud, I'm so proud," he said, grabbing her wrist in one hand and Cong's in the other so he could lift their fists in the air. Still giddy and a little delirious, she stumbled into the kiss and cry while Cong ran back onto the ice to retrieve a giant stuffed Tigger wearing a copy of her free skate dress. Grinning triumphantly as if he had brought back a treasure chest of pirate loot, he presented it with a ridiculous amount of grandiosity. Wenjing snickered, and the crowd laughed along.

"I love you, stupid," she said, taking the Tigger and playing with its paws as he sat down. He grinned back and elbowed her, and she slugged him in the arm, until Coach Zhao nudged them to look up at the scoreboard.

"The scores please, for Wenjing Sui and Cong Han of China," said the announcer, brutally mispronouncing their names. "They have earned 159.37 points, which is a new season's best. Their total competition score is 241.62 points, which brings them currently into first place."

A roar of approval rang through the crowd, and their names appeared on the scoreboard, right above James/Cipres and Tarasova/Morozov. Cong jumped up, grabbing Wenjing by the waist in one arm, and spun her around while fist-pumping with his free hand. Laughing, Coach Zhao was clapping fervently.

"2020 World Champions," said Cong, seeding her down. "How does that feel?"

"Wait, wait, wait," said Wenjing. "There's still one team to go!"

"Yeah, Stolbova and her new partner," said Cong. "But we had a five-point lead on them in the short - they'd have to smash our world record to get it. Come on, we've got interviews."

Wenjing slipped out of his arms. "I want to watch her. She's cool. And it's been ages since I've seen her."

Cong smiled. "Okay then. Whatever you say, world champ."

While Cong and Coach Zhao chattered eagerly, Wenjing made her way to the boards just as Ksenia and The Guy were taking their positions. Really, she looked stunning. Her dress was a deep blue, with a high, elegant neckline and an open back. A row of tiny silver beads danced across her neck and around the armholes, but the rest of the dress was free of decoration. The simplicity of the costume only called more attention to her graceful limbs, her striking figure, and her fierce dark eyes as she waited for the music to begin.

The first notes of Exogenesis Symphony Part 3 trembled in the arena, and they started to move. Wenjing had forgotten just how much power Ksenia could generate with a single crossover. There was something so confident, so determined, so dangerous about those crossovers.

The twist was, in all honesty, not the greatest twist Wenjing had ever seen. But a moment later, they were barreling down the ice into side-by-side triple toe-triple toe combinations, and they landed flawlessly.

Choreographed sequence. Deep backward spirals, unwavering and fearless.

Throw triple flip. Incredible running edge, sharp enough to slit a throat.

A group five lift, the positions seeming to change every time he turned.

Side-by-side triple salchow, right on the beat of the music.

Another gorgeous lift; she seemed to hold herself in the air as though she sat on a throne.

A pair spin, perfectly centered and quick.

A third lift, covering the entire length of the rink.

A death spiral, low and steady.

Throw triple salchow. The explosion of happiness on Ksenia's face as her right blade hit the ice echoed throughout the whole arena. The crowd roared as one, and she sailed across the ice to her closing pose as the music reached its conclusion.

Wenjing hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she let out a sigh of relief. She covered her mouth in embarrassment, but no one was looking. All eyes were on Ksenia as she swung her fist in the air with satisfaction and turned to hug The Guy - Andrei, that was his name. If perfect joy could be captured in a photo, it would look like Ksenia standing in the middle of the ice at the 2019 World Championships.

"Wenjing!"

She jumped. Coach Zhao was standing right next to her, frowning.

"It's time to do some interviews," he said more gently.

She glanced back at Ksenia and Andrei. They were skating towards the kiss and cry. Andrei was retrieving toys from the ice while Ksenia waved to the crowd, one hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying.

"Okay," said Wenjing, turning back to Coach Zhao. "I'm coming."

She followed him into the mixed zone, where Cong was answering questions from a dozen hungry reporters jabbing microphones in his face. When he saw her, he stopped mid-sentence and smiled.

"Hey, look, it's Little Sui. The Empress has arrived!"

She grinned up at him before he resumed the interviews.

"We're very happy with our performance - we did everything as well as we could. Before the competition, we made the goal to deliver the best performances of the season, and-"

He broke off again as the announcer's voice blared from the arena.

"The scores, please, for Ksenia Stolbova and Andrei Novoselov of Russia. They have earned 149.55 points in their free skate, a new season's best. Their total competition score is 225.28 points, which brings them currently into third place. This concludes the pairs' free skate."

Ksenia's scream, ringing all the way to the mixed zone loud and clear, was the only thing Wenjing needed to hear.


	8. She’s Back

Been through some bad sh*t, I should be a sad b*tch  
Who woulda thought it'd turn me to a savage?

—-

Ksenia locked the bathroom stall, leaned her forehead against the door, and let out the thick knot of sobs that had been snowballing in her throat for the past hour. She had managed to keep it together on the ice, but now that she was alone with her thoughts, it all flooded to the surface, and the thread holding her composure snapped.

She was back.

Two years ago, she’d had no partner, no coach, and no idea whether she would ever compete again. She’d been sitting with one leg in a cast, listening to the other skaters telling stories about an Olympics she couldn’t attend, as Fedor whispered to Nina about retirement. She could’ve retired too. But she didn’t.

Then Nikolai had come into her life with open arms and a brilliant mind, and led her back into the light. Andrei had taken her hand and promised her to do all he could to give her a second chance. And she had worked, carving herself a new tunnel out of the stone walls caving in around her.

In the back of her mind, she knew she couldn’t stay here in the bathroom all day. They would want her for the press conference, and the medal ceremony, and the dozens of reporters after that. But just once, she wished she could steal a few hours to let this feeling overwhelm her, fill every vein in her body, and capture it deep inside her where no one could find it. She had earned this feeling, and she wanted to keep it for herself.

She wiped her wet cheek with a single fingertip in short, quick strokes to avoid smudging her heavy mascara and eyeliner. She had gotten good at drying without showing it in the past couple years. But this time they were happy tears.

Ksenia unlocked the stall, cleared her throat, and checked herself in the mirror before plunging back out into the insanity of the mixed zone. As soon as she opened the door, she got jostled by a cameraman, Nicole Della Monica, and a sweeper making a beeline for the bathroom before she caught sight of a familiar face.

Nikolai was beaming as he grabbed her around her waist and spun her around. She shrieked, and he kissed her laughing lips. He carried her out of the way, towards a corner where a single man in a baseball cap dragged thick cords from a speaker system off the floor. Setting her back on her feet, he ran his hands up her sides so he could hold her face.

“You did it,” he said. “You were perfect, better than perfect. I don’t even know what to say - I’m so proud of you!”

She wanted to say something, but she was shaking too hard. Something about him always made her too weak to speak. She lay her head against his chest and took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

He ran his thumb over her cheek. “Ksyusha...I’ve coached many amazing skaters in my life, true legends. But I’ve never met someone who skates with as much power and passion as you do. It’s been such an honor just to witness your performances, let alone be involved in the process.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled sassily up at him. “I’m your girlfriend. You’re biased.”

“Of course I am.” He kissed her on the lips again and laughed, that low rumble in his throat he usually made when she did something sexy. “You should’ve seen old Mozer when the scores came up. She really thought Zhenya and Vova would beat you with that doubled combo. That woman has truly gone insane. If only Fedor hadn’t been an utter idiot, he could’ve been standing next to you out there.”

For a moment her heart tightened, remembering the encounter with Fedor, but she stopped herself before she could defend him. This had nothing to do with Fedor anymore.

“Come on,” said Nikolai, pressing his fingers behind her ear. “I believe we have a medal to collect.”


End file.
